


Golden Kisses.

by psyleedee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bottom Castiel (Supernatural), Consensual Somnophilia, Dean Winchester Gives Oral Sex, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fluff and Smut, Horny Dean Winchester, Human Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Moaning, Morning Cuddles, Morning Sex, Morning Wood, Needy Castiel (Supernatural), Oral Sex, Orgasm, Rimming, Sleeping Castiel (Supernatural), Smut, Somnophilia, Top Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:40:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25159387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psyleedee/pseuds/psyleedee
Summary: At once, Dean finds himself filled with a peculiar warmth. A peculiar buzz under his skin. A certain coil in his gut. He wants, no, needs to touch Castiel, in whatever way he can. He needs to feel the man under him, needs to hear his blissful, throaty moans, needs to map out every curve on his lean body, needs to swallow the taste of his release, of his tight, heated skin, needs to watch his eyes squeeze shut with the ethereal ecstasy of an orgasm. Dean's minds is hazy with lust, and no, he isn't afraid to show it, to let it control him, to let it dominate over his coherence.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 167





	Golden Kisses.

**Author's Note:**

> some fluffy rimming for y'all. stay safe bitches.

The sunshine filters in through the large window, golden rays showering a soft, yellow glow over Castiel's back. His legs are tangled within the white, stained motel room sheets. Thick, long scars run down from Castiel's shoulder blades, down to the base of his spine, and his hands, one tucked under his pillow, the other settled over Dean's stomach, as he snores, in soft, low rumbles. His face is smooth, not a single line of worry, or a sliver of a wrinkle corroding it, and in the warmth of the sunny Saturday morning, he appears as an angel, as if he never fell from grace, never had his wings clipped, never lost his strength. 

A smile graces Dean's lips as he traces a hand down Castiel's full, pink, lips. The events of the night before are blurred to Dean, but in some distant corner of his mind, he recalls the scent of Castiel engulfing him, the feeling of his chest pressed against Dean's, the shaking of his shallow breath as Dean entered him, and the pliant, boneless body in Dean's hands once he'd climaxed. 

Naked is how they went to bed, and they've woken up the same. Or at least Dean has. And that is much more of a clue than he will ever need to know what happened between the two of them the night before. 

Absently, Dean trails a finger down the former angel's smooth, tan skin, with a tender smile, and shifts onto his side, careful with Castiel's hand on his stomach, as he pauses for a moment, allowing himself to simply drink in the sight of his naked lover, skin radiating gold, eyes shut with tranquil, slow, content breaths warm against Dean's face. 

At once, Dean finds himself filled with a peculiar warmth. A peculiar buzz under his skin. A certain coil in his gut. He wants, no, _needs_ to touch Castiel, in whatever way he can. He needs to feel the man under him, needs to hear his blissful, throaty moans, needs to map out every curve on his lean body, needs to swallow the taste of his release, of his tight, heated skin, needs to watch his eyes squeeze shut with the ethereal ecstasy of an orgasm. Dean's minds is hazy with lust, and no, he isn't afraid to show it, to let it control him, to let it dominate over his coherence. 

So, with a tentative hand, he reaches under the sheets covering Castiel's modesty, as if Dean hadn't taken his time savouring it in his mouth the previous night, and touches a feather light finger to Castiel's cock. It twitches under the touch, yet gives no indication of having woken Castiel. Accepting this as encouragement, Dean rolls onto his stomach, pushing himself up on the bed, as he props an arm under his head for support, the other one drifting lower and lower, until his fingers wrap around the base of Castiel's cock, and he gives it a single, languid tug. 

"Mh..."  
Castiel mumbles to himself, the touch even prominent now, and Dean's body is seized with a shudder. As his hand strokes Castiel's thick, broad girth, dark green eyes track the former angel with the vigilance of a hawk scouring for a prey. 

The strokes slip into tight, moderate pumps, and it isn't until Dean swipes his thumb across the head of Castiel's fat, throbbing cock to spread the bead of pre-cum around, does the man wake.

Cerulean blue eyes flutter open, nimble fingers reaching up to rub the slumber away, as Castiel's lips pucker into a soft pout, and with a deep inhale, he stretches his torso, hands flying up to the headboard, as he arches his back, and lets his hands fall next to him, lazy eyes regarding Dean with a glimmer of arousal, as he holds his hands out and wiggles his fingers with a loopy smile. 

" _Deaannn~_ "  
Castiel whines, and Dean surges forward into Castiel's arms, wrapping his own around his lover's waist, as he noses at Castiel's neck. His knees dip into the bed on either side of Castiel's thighs, and their cocks brush together, only separated by the thin white sheet, as Dean latches his lips onto the spot below Castiel's collar bone, licking a stripe over the heated skin, feeling a set of legs wrap around his thighs as Castiel grinds his hips against Dean's, head falling back to allow Dean to mark his neck. 

Bluish-red marks adorn Castiel's neck. Bites, nips, fingernails. They sheathe Castiel's neck as if a necklace of pearls, and a possessive growl rises at the back of Dean's throat as he gazes down at the marks. _Mine_ , say his primal instincts, and the need to survive, the need to fuck, to breed, to claim, wracks Dean. Before he knows it, he's reaching down, crawling lower, until his face is in line with Castiel's bare ass. 

"Fuck, Dean-"  
Comes the breathy moan from above him, and it only spurs on the coil in his gut. 

But Dean hasn't completely shifted into a beast. Not yet. 

"What do you need, Cas?"

Castiel moans, his slender fingers dipping past his lips, coated in spit, before traveling down to his hardening nipples to twist the bud in his fingers. 

"You, just you, Dean, your hands, your tongue, your _cock_."  
The slight enunciation of the last word has sparks flittering within Dean's veins, and he hisses, grabbing Castiel by the thighs and yanking him closer, eliciting a helpless yelp from the man, and with dark, lust-blown eyes, Dean glances up at Castiel, before reaching up to hold his fingers to Castiel's mouth. 

"Suck em' for me, baby. Get em' nice and wet."  
Dean says, and a second later, his fingers are enveloped in tight, wet heat, sheathed in saliva, swirled around a tongue, as Castiel sucks every little digit, letting go of the fingers with a pop of his lips, hazy eyes meeting Dean's, before wandering down to Dean's naked chest. 

"Good boy, Cas."

Castiel mewls at the praise, and without a prompt, sits up, rolls over, and lays down on his stomach. Ass up, back arched, face pressed into the mattress. His hands slip under the pillow as he shuts his eyes, and pushes his ass back against Dean's face, eliciting a soft chuckle from Dean. 

"Eager, are we, angel?"

"Need you."  
Voice dripping with arousal and need, it sends a shock of pleasure right down Dean's gut, and he feels a slight growl rise at the back of his neck, watching _his_ angel, _his_ boyfriend squirm with desire under him. 

Dean lifts his gaze from Castiel's back, down to his quivering hole, the muscle, in dire need of a cock filling it up, clenches around nothing, and Dean almost pities the lack of a cock inside the needy hole. 

"You wanna come on my fingers, baby? Or you wanna come on my cock? Or my mouth?"  
He teases, and hears Castiel whine above him, bucking his hips back against Dean's face.

With another low chuckle, Dean grabs the already spread asscheeks, and spreads them wider, until all Dean can focus on is the tight, little fluttering hole in the middle, loose from the night before. He hooks a dry thumb against the hole, and tugs it down, stretching it out to see the wall of pink muscle inside, before sitting up on his knees, and dips his head down to lick a flat stripe against Castiel's dry hole. At once, a shudder wracks the former angel's body, and he whimpers out loud, his full, pink lips falling open. 

"Dean, please, I can't wait any longer."

"Patience, sweetheart."

It's funny how a day ago, Dean wouldn't even look Castiel in the eye, much less call him his sweetheart. If it hadn't been for the near-death hunt they'd gone on together, maybe Dean would never have been able to confess his feelings for Castiel. And maybe they wouldn't have had exceptionally mind-blowing sex the night before. 

"I love you. I love you, Cas."

"I love you too, but I swear, Dean Winchester, if you don't put that mouth of yours to good use, you won't be living to see another day."

Dean laughs, and without a single warning, lays a sharp slap on the thick, jiggling mound of flesh. Castiel cries out loud, sobbing into the pillow with a jerk, as Dean grabs another handful of ass, and gives it a stinging red slap. 

" _Dean~_ "  
Castiel cries, his voice heavy with arousal and slight pain, and Dean grabs the inside of Castiel's ass, pulling it apart to spread his hole, and and dives down to press his lips to the fluttering ring of muscle, wrapping his lips around the rim, as he thrusts his tongue inside. The taste of dried vanilla lube, a salty trace of Dean's cum, and the taste of Castiel's pure musk overwhelms Dean's senses, and he hums, sending vibrations thrumming through Castiel's hole.

The bedsheet crumples where Castiel clenches it, and he grinds back against, Dean's tongue, trying to fuck himself on whatever friction he can get. Loud, breathy whines float through the air, and Dean's cock twitches under him. He's been trying to neglect it, but with every brush of his aching, fat head to the sheets, he finds it harder to control himself. His breath staggers, but he doesn't pull away. He licks and sucks, and fucks his tongue into Castiel's hole, lapping up the taste of Castiel's slippery skin, all the while Castiel cries for more above him. 

"Dean- Dean, I'm close-"  
Castiel keens, shoving his ass back against Dean's face, and with a resolute glint in his eyes, Dean holds onto Castiel's bucking hips, thumbs digging in with bruises around the skin, as he buries his nose under Castiel's balls, and and licks his tongue flat over the sensitive, little hole, hearing Castiel moan, distressed from wanting to climax, and his toes curl around Dean's back, his foot nudging against Dean, as his legs tremble, his chest heaves, and his hand flies down to push Dean's face deeper into his ass, and Dean, refraining a satisfied smile, goes pliant, reduced to nothing but a tongue with the sole purpose of pleasuring his lover, and Castiel continues to cry out.

"Dean- Dean- Dean- Dean- oh- oh my god, I'm coming- oh- _ungh_ -"

The hand in Dean's hair tighten, and the sheets under him are being pulled as Castiel cries out, one last time, and his back shoots up into an arch as he comes- thick, white, stripes of come painting across Castiel's smooth, tanned chest, a few drops splashing against Dean's hair, as he goes silent. 

Dean sucks on his rim, giving one final thrust, before pulling his tongue out, licking a stripe up to his balls, and dragging his lips up the vee of Castiel's hips, up his navel, up his chest, as he crawls up the length of Castiel's pliant, spent body, until he reaches his neck, peppering soft, assuring kisses up Castiel's collarbone, as a set of hands, gentle and feather-like, travel up to bury within Dean's hair. 

" _Dean."_  
Castiel whines, nuzzling against Dean's shoulder as he yawns, and bucks his hips up, brushing their cocks together, which has Dean hissing at the friction, and he hums against Castiel's neck. 

"God, I'm so hard right now, Cas."  
Dean rasps, breathing heavily against his lover's skin. 

Under him, Castiel grins, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief and hunger. 

"I think I might know a few tricks to help with that."

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to leave a kudos and a comment!


End file.
